


Matters of Convenience

by QueenOfTheDreamers (QueenOfDreamers)



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gay Albert, Platonic Vicbert, Vicbourne, keeping secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-20 11:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12431976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfDreamers/pseuds/QueenOfTheDreamers
Summary: On her wedding night, Victoria discovers that Albert - kind but stern and married out of necessity - quite simply does not desire women. Under the weight of this reality, a careful arrangement is formed between Victoria, Lord Melbourne, and Albert. Surely there's a way for everyone to be happy. Vicbourne, novel-length WIP. Indefinite Hiatus.





	1. Epiphany

"May I kiss the bride?"

Victoria just curled her lips up a little in response, and as Lord Melbourne bent, resplendent in his Windsor Uniform, her stomach ached. She struggled to keep her breath steady as Melbourne touched his lips to her cheekbone. She reached for his hands at once, unable to help herself. His green eyes flashed with something strange then, and a shot of grief went through Victoria as she forced herself to tip her head. She mustered all the warmth she could and said quietly,

"Goodbye, Lord M."

She was leaving him for the night, leaving to go off with Albert to consummate their marriage, but she was leaving him in another way, too. Their days of riding out alone together were gone. Their days of chatting as Victoria sketched Victoria were gone. He could not be hers anymore, not the way he'd been, and she could not be his in any way at all. She was Albert's now.

His eyes flashed again, and this time Victoria swore the candlelight glistened in them as if they'd welled a bit. The words seemed to be ripped from him against his will then as he answered her,

"Goodbye, Ma'am."

She left him then, turning to walk down the carpeted corridor, forcing her feet to take one step after another. Left, right. Left, right. She sped up her steps, afraid she'd turn around and run straight into Melbourne's arms if she didn't. Soon she was running, running away from him in search of the future she could not escape.

* * *

 

She shifted a little where she sat waiting on the bed, pulling a little at the thin fabric of her nightgown and swallowing past the lump in her throat. She'd had dreams about being with a man, about being touched and kissed by a man. The problem was that, at least in her dreams, that man had always been Lord M. But tonight it would be Albert. For the rest of her life, it would be Albert.

She cared deeply for him. He was sweet, if stern, and he was intelligent and careful. She liked him quite a lot as a fellow human, but she did not find herself craving him. Not the way she'd spent months craving Lord Melbourne.

The door opened quietly, and Victoria's breath hitched as she watched Albert enter the room very slowly. He looked frightened, she thought. Actually, he looked terrified. He closed the door with extreme caution, as though the slightest sound of it shutting would ruin all of this. Then he pulled at the sleeves of his shirt and approached Victoria's bed. She rose to stand before him, snaring one arm up around his shoulders, and she tried to be hospitable.

"Is there anything I can get you? Some Madeira?"

"I'm not thirsty. Thank you." His breath trembled like the last leaf on an autumn tree. He shut his eyes for a moment and whispered, "I... erm... perhaps you could lie down, Victoria."

"All right." She was surprised by how nervous he seemed, and on instinct she reached for his face. Albert finally opened his eyes and stared down at her, his gaze struck through with fear. Victoria frowned and then scoffed softly.

"You needn't fear me, Albert," she teased. "I won't bite."

"I know. It's... I am... looking forward to this." Albert seemed to be trying to convince himself of that. Victoria pulled him down for a kiss, but his lips were distant against hers, and he pulled away after just a moment. His hands went to her waist and rubbed a little, but it was off. It was awkward, like he was inspecting something mechanical instead of caressing a woman. Victoria furrowed her brow. This was nothing like the fantasies she'd had.

She climbed silently up onto the bed and slithered back against the pillows. Albert joined her up on the mattress and knelt beside her, studying her as if she were some sort of scientific specimen. Victoria felt her cheeks go hot under the weight of his gaze, and she finally informed him,

"You may touch me."

"Oh. Yes." Albert pulled clinically at the hem of her nightgown and said in an uncertain voice, "You are very beautiful, Victoria. You looked very pretty at the wedding. I liked the flowers you had in your hair."

"You did?" She smiled up at him, reaching for his face and feeling his jaw tighten under her touch. He nodded and kept pulling up her nightgown, and then he whispered,

"There is a particular spot of flesh which, when touched properly, gives the woman a sense of great satisfaction."

"Is that so?" Victoria wriggled a little, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was staring at the place between his legs. Albert sniffed a little and reached his hand down, pressing the pad of one finger between her thighs. She gasped at the sudden motion, and she sat up a little in surprise when Albert began to massage her. She felt herself flush a little wet, for the place he was touching was indeed sensitive. But Albert seemed almost disgusted by what he was doing. His face twisted a little, and she could tell he was holding his breath.

"Does that feel good?" His eyes found hers at last, and Victoria nodded quickly.

"Yes, it feels good," she admitted. She didn't know much about any of this, but she knew that a man's organ lay between his own legs, and so she reached there. Men went hard before they entered women, she'd been told. But she didn't feel anything hard in Albert's breeches. She dragged her fingertips around, trying to find the thing that was supposed to enter her body, but Albert twisted away a little and shook his head.

"I am... not ready yet," he said. He quickened his finger on Victoria, and suddenly she could sense it. She could feel the absence of his desire just as plainly as he would have been able to feel the presence of it. He didn't want her. Not like this.

"Albert." She reached for his hand and pulled it away from her womanhood, watching as he quickly wiped his fingers on the sheets. She scowled and sat up slowly, and she asked him, "Is it just nerves? Tell me it's just nerves."

"I... have never been with a woman, Victoria," he said, a little defensively. His high cheekbones coloured pink then, and he averted his gaze to the wall as he added, "It has been a very long day. Perhaps I shall be more ready tomorrow. I do not think... I do not suspect I will become firm enough for you. I am sorry, Victoria. Really, I am."

"Albert," she said again, watching as he picked at the sheets and shut his eyes. She took a long breath and asked him plainly, "Do you think often of doing it? Of being with a woman in this way?"

"No." He shook his head. "This act will be... difficult for me, I think."

Victoria let her eyes flutter shut then, and she felt sick to her stomach. She shook her head wildly and whispered in a frantic tone,

"You have to... we have to... we are married, Albert. This is something married people do."

"I know." He sounded pained then, and he reached to stroke carefully at her bare arm. He was gentle then, and there was nothing erotic in his touch. He was comforting her, and it did feel good in its own way to be touched like this by him. Victoria opened her eyes and saw him smile quite sadly.

"Is it me?" She let him keep rubbing her arm. "Is it just me, or is it all women? Tell me I am not the only reason for your lack of desire."

"Oh, Victoria. It is not you." Albert sighed and gnawed on his lip. "I am so very honoured to be your husband. I could not have possibly asked for a better wife. As as a younger son, penniless and without anything to offer, this situation is particularly fortuitous. I had to marry, you understand. I just got lucky in marrying you, but I had to marry no matter what, you understand."

"But you don't actually want a wife," Victoria guessed. "Not her body, anyway."

Albert shrugged. "I will do my best. Here. Here, try again."

He reached for her hand and smashed it against his breeches. He wrenched his eyes shut and seemed to be concentrating hard on an idea in his mind. Victoria felt a twinge of discomfort as he worked her fingers against his crotch. He didn't firm up beneath her touch, not even a little bit. His ears went scarlet and his neck visibly tightened, and he finally shook his head regretfully. Victoria pulled her hand away, remembering the rumours she'd heard about certain men.

"Albert," she said carefully, knowing that she might offend him beyond recompense now. "Albert, do you even... want women? I mean to say, are you attracted to the female form?"

He was silent then, his eyes shut and his fingers cinching on his knees. He finally shook his head, very slowly, and he mumbled,

"I will do my very best to be a good husband for you. To be a good consort of the Queen of England. I adore you. You are beautiful and kind. You are a good Queen. You are -"

"A woman," Victoria finished for him, "and you have no desire for the body of a woman."

Albert opened his eyes and promised her, "I have every desire to spend every waking moment with you. I want to make you happy. I want to be the best friend you could want, Victoria."

"Friend," she repeated, her chest aching as tears welled up in her eyes. She sniffles and demanded, "Do you desire men instead?"

"I have never been with anyone," Albert insisted, but Victoria snapped,

"If you could be with a man, would you?"

He hesitated, and then he shrugged and huffed out a little breath. "I... I don't know. Probably. Please, Victoria; you can't tell anyone that I -"

"I won't tell," she promised. She reached for Albert's hand and squeezed it, and she let him wipe away the tears that were streaking down her cheeks. She studied his face and suddenly felt very sorry for him. How lonely it must be, she thought, to want something he could never have. Something he wasn't allowed to have. Then she realised she felt that way herself, about Lord Melbourne, and she rubbed at Albert's hand as she told him,

"We shall be very good friends, you and I. And if you find... if there is someone else that you..."

"I would say the same for you," Albert told her seriously. "I want to make you happy, Victoria, and as your husband, as your consort, I know that there are certain types of happiness I will not be able to give you."

Suddenly Victoria wanted to go find Melbourne, to tell him everything and demand he kiss her on the lips since her husband would never want to do that to her. Instead she reached for Albert's face and cradled his jaw, and she said quietly,

"Let us make a very solemn vow. We shall do everything in our power to make one another happy, for we are bound together forever by God and the law. We shall be very good friends, and we shall allow one another whatever other sources of happiness we require. Will you make me that promise, Albert?"

He nodded slowly. "I gladly make that promise, Victoria."

She released his hand then, trying to shove away the profound disappointment and rejection that was rippling through her veins. She closed her eyes and told him,

"You looked so handsome during the wedding, Albert. I am glad to be your wife."

"I... shall sleep in my own rooms, if you do not mind," Albert said then, and Victoria just nodded. She felt him kiss her cheek, just like Lord M had done earlier. Albert rubbed at her arm again and whispered,

"I am so sorry, Victoria."

"Goodnight, Albert." She kept her eyes shut as his weight shifted on the bed, and she listened to his soft footsteps as he walked away. She listened to the door open and shut, and then she collapsed down onto the pillows and began to cry.

She needed Melbourne, now more than ever. She needed to talk to him, to hold his hands, to sob against his chest. But he wasn't there. She'd bid him farewell.

Two days. Victoria would only be at Windsor for two days. Then she would be back in London, back to her duties as the monarch. And when she was, she had every intention of confessing everything to Lord M.

**Author's Note: Hi, there! Yes, I'm back to writing Vicbourne. Couldn't stay away for long. I'll also be updating my Man in the High Castle fic, though that one may only get every-other-day updates. The idea for this story comes from a fellow Vicbourne fan who had a very cool prompt she wanted to see written. Thank you for reading - I'd love to hear from you if you get a chance to review. :)**


	2. Man to Man

"Lord Melbourne."

He nodded his thanks at the steward who opened the door to Victoria's drawing room. Melbourne had been summoned from Dover House early this morning with a short letter from Victoria. He hadn't expected her to want to see him so soon after her brief honeymoon. Wouldn't she be too busy being enamoured with her new husband to bother with her aged prime minister?

"Lord M." She sounded relieved as he walked into the room, as the door shut behind him. Melbourne swiftly genuflected and gave a perfunctory kiss to Victoria's hand, and when he rose, he shrugged and admitted,

"Your Majesty, I was certain you'd still be far too intoxicated by your new marriage to -"

"I need to speak with you," Victoria interrupted, and Melbourne's playfulness vanished. He frowned and followed her to a set of velvet armchairs near a window. She huffed down into one, gesturing for him to sit opposite her. A little twinge of unease went through Melbourne's stomach. Victoria was often petulant, easily irritated, but this felt different. She seemed... hurt. She seemed wounded.

She shut her eyes and knitted her fingers together on her maroon skirts, and Melbourne slowly sat. He cleared his throat softly and kept his voice gentle as he asked,

"Did you... enjoy yourself at Windsor, Ma'am?"

"Not really," she said, and for some reason, the idea of her being miserable in her marriage made his chest ache with regret. It had hurt him to walk down the aisle before her, leading her to Albert and watching as she promised herself to him. It had hurt to kiss her cheek, knowing it was the only kiss he'd ever be able to give her. Melbourne had admittedly lusted after his young queen in ways that he knew were entirely inappropriate, but he'd never laboured any delusion that he could ever be hers or the other way round. Still, it had hurt to see her marry. Now it hurt to know she was unhappy. He tried to meet her eyes, but she stared at the wall, and he asked her,

"Is something wrong, Ma'am?"

"I can confide in you, Lord M," she said confidently. "I know this. I can tell you secrets that I can't share with anyone else in all the world. Can't I?"

"Yes, of course you can," Melbourne whispered. Suddenly fear went through him, and he asked, "Ma'am, has someone hurt you?"

She shut her eyes and shook her head, and she mumbled, "What a very good man you are, to ask me such a thing as that at a time like this."

"A time like... Ma'am, will you please tell me what's happened?" Melbourne kept his voice cautious, afraid of what she was going to say. Finally Victoria turned her face to him, her eyes shining with tears that had yet to boil over, and she said quietly,

"My husband does not care for women."

Melbourne felt his eyebrows fly up and his jaw fall down. He shook his head and stammered,

"I don't... I don't understand."

Victoria's voice was like steel then as she said simply, "Albert's preference for a partner would someone distinctly more masculine. We could not... erm... the marriage is unconsummated."

Her cheeks went red then, and Melbourne could hardly breathe as he processed what she'd said. He opened his mouth and tried to say something, tried to reassure her that many such men had somehow found a way to put children into their wives. He tried to tell her that her marriage was political and arranged and there was no need for her to feign intimacy with a man who did not desire her. But all that came from his lips was a cracked little whisper.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am."

She shrugged and said with artificial lightness, "It is of no consequence. This marriage was a matter of convenience for Albert and me both. He needed to marry because he was poor, because he is a younger son in a minor family. I needed to marry because people seem entirely unable to contemplate the notion of a queen ruling alone. And, so, it doesn't matter. He and I will be very good friends. We have agreed upon that."

"Friends." Melbourne nodded and shrugged, trying to sound lighthearted as he said, "You and I are friends, aren't we? And there is great happiness in that, I think."

Victoria was silent then, and Melbourne worried that he'd offended her. He frowned and put his lips into a line, and the silence in the room grew very heavy indeed.

"I am meant to produce an heir," Victoria noted, "but Albert will be unable to give me one. I suppose the guilt will wind up falling on me, as it so often falls upon women. They will call me the Barren Queen. I can see the cartoons now."

That made Melbourne feel angry, and just a little queasy, and he murmured,

"I'm sure he can find some way to -"

"Ha!" Victoria scoffed, shaking her head wildly and dabbing with her fingers at the tears that now tumbled from her eyes. Melbourne reached into his coat and pulled out a clean handkerchief, which he passed over. Victoria nodded her thanks and used it to daub away her tears, and she said rather bitterly, "I admit to a certain degree of ignorance, Lord M, on what is meant to happen between a man and his wife. But I know enough to discern that the complete and utter inability to complete the act I witnessed is not something that will spontaneously heal itself."

Melbourne felt his cheeks go very warm then. This was awkward, discussing with his queen that her husband hadn't been able to get hard for her. Melbourne cleared his throat roughly and said in a gentle voice,

"Not everyone has children."

"No, but Albert and I were meant to do so," Victoria said, staring at the handkerchief in her hands. She was so pretty, Melbourne thought all of a sudden. He studied her smooth brown hair, her perky nose and the roundness in her cheeks. He was staring, he knew. It was inappropriate. But he couldn't help himself. How could any man - whatever his other inclinations - find himself unable to be intimate with Victoria? Such a notion was madness.

"Ma'am, may I have your permission to speak with him?" Melbourne suggested. "Man to man. Perhaps there is something I could do to help."

"Oh." Victoria nodded vigorously. "Yes. Yes, Lord M. Will you please speak with him today?"

She seemed eager about the notion, her blue eyes lighting up all of a sudden. Melbourne felt awkward as he nodded and reassured her,

"Of course. I'll go see him now, if you wish. I only want you to be happy."

He froze then, unsure of why he'd said that last part. It sounded cloying. Suddenly her face twisted a little, and she lowered her gaze again to the handkerchief he'd given her. She scoffed very quietly and mumbled,

"You and Albert both. You both just want to make me happy. How good you both are. How lucky I am to have the two of you."

Melbourne's eyes seared unexpectedly, and he rather boldly reached toward Victoria and covered her hand with his. When she raised her wet eyes to his, he nodded and told her,

"You are very brave. This can not be easy, but you approach it bravely. As a queen."

Victoria shut her eyes and nodded once. "Thank you for speaking with him, Lord M."

* * *

 

"Lord Melbourne."

For the second time in an hour, Melbourne walked past a steward into a royal reception room. This time it was Prince Albert waiting for him; he'd sent a formal request to meet with the new consort. Albert probably thought that Lord Melbourne was coming on some sort of official business, something to do with politics. Albert had aspirations of political relevance as the consort, Melbourne knew. As he stepped into the room, Albert rose from a divan and gave him a polite nod.

"Good morning, Lord Melbourne," Albert said politely. "Victoria was so eager to see you again. I trust you've already spoken to her this morning?"

There was a look of distrust in Albert's eyes then, a searching sort of fear, and Melbourne just sighed.

"Yes, Your Highness. I spoke with Her Majesty not so very long ago. And she asked me to come and speak with you. I pray that what I am about to say does not offend you, Your Highness, but I think it best that no one feign ignorance now."

Albert folded his hands before him and squared his jaw. He nodded once, very stiffly, and gestured to the divan from which he'd come.

"Please, will you sit?"

Melbourne chose an uncomfortable, ornamental sort of chair and perched himself carefully on its seat, and Albert sat on the divan. There was a long moment of silence, and finally Albert studied his fingernail and informed Melbourne,

"I knew she would tell you. I do not fault her; it was undoubtedly a shocking and traumatic revelation for her to face, and she trusts you alone in this world. I only hope that I can someday earn a little trust from her, that I can make her happy somehow. I want to be a good husband to her, a good friend. There are certain things I will not be able to accomplish, I fear."

"Like the production of an heir," Melbourne nodded. He sighed very deeply and shrugged. "In my younger days, Your Highness, I fell in with a rather radical crowd. It is, in fact, the way my wife met Lord Byron. In many ways, I wish I'd never met any of those people. My life was torn apart by it all later. But some of those radical minds... some of them lived life a little differently. It wasn't always the clean expectation of a married man and a married woman making bouncing little babies, you understand. I knew one man, a poet, who would go to bed with another man, night after night."

Albert seemed shocked by what Melbourne was saying, but Melbourne scratched at his hair a little and barreled on,

"Surely his wife was devastated, I thought. How could she abide such a thing? But they were so happy. They went riding together; they played cards together. And she knew. She was completely aware. She had companions of her own; she bore a child from another man. And everyone was so happy. It seemed very strange to me at the time. It does not seem so very strange now."

Albert looked very emotional then, his face contorting a bit as he admitted,

"My brother has always been so confused by my lack of interest in women. I am not disinterested in Victoria, you understand. I am very interested in her, in her happiness. I want to go riding with her, to play cards with her, Lord Melbourne. I just can not... I will never be able to -"

"No, I know." Melbourne rubbed at his neck, which felt stiff and sore from being so tense about all this. He drummed his fingers on his knee and told Albert, "I do not suspect she will begrudge you your own companions, and I trust you would grant her the same freedom to seek romance."

"So, will it be you?" Albert asked, and Melbourne felt his eyes go wide with shock. Albert looked almost shy then and said, "I can see how she adores you. Will you be the one to care for her in the way I can not?"

Melbourne fought to breathe for a moment, and he finally licked his lip and said carefully, "I do not suppose I would be... I don't think she and I..."

He trailed off then, unable to lie and say he didn't want her. She wanted him. He knew that. She'd made that extremely plain for some time now. It was hardly as though Melbourne valued sex as a sacred marital act. He'd had his share of women besides Caroline. And it was hardly as thoughVictoria's sham of a marriage was going to accomplish what it was meant to do. What was the worst that could happen? If Melbourne accidentally put a child on Victoria, it would simply be assumed the child was Albert's. In fact, that might be the best service to his country that Melbourne could perform, given these particular circumstances. He cleared his throat roughly and shook his head, and Albert said gently,

"I think the two of you would make one another very happy in that way, Lord Melbourne, if you will permit me to say so. What I could not give her at Windsor, what she was expecting of me... you could give her that and more. You could make her so happy, and I could do my best to make her happy, too. Could we not strike some sort of agreement, you and I? Victoria and I have come to an agreement. How about you and I, Lord Melbourne? Could we not agree that we have different ways of honouring Victoria, of enriching her life? Could we not agree to help one another in that task?"

Melbourne felt his heart hammer in his chest, felt his breath catch in his throat, and he finally choked out,

"I would gladly make such an agreement, but not without her permission. I do not know if... if that sort of thing is anything she would want of me."

Albert tipped his head and laughed a little then. "Lord Melbourne, the entire country can see that that sort of thing is precisely what she wants of you. Dine with us tonight, will you? After dinner, we will talk, the three of us. I do believe we could all be happy. All of us."

Melbourne shut his eyes, his mind suddenly flooded with the strange and beautiful idea of kissing Victoria, of touching her bare chest, of hearing her whisper at him in a dark room. Melbourne opened his eyes and met Albert's nervous gaze.

"You are a good politician, sir," Albert said warmly then. "Surely you can propose an arrangement now. Something that will please all involved parties."

Melbourne nodded once. "I shall do my best, Your Highness."

He held out his hand then, and Albert shook it firmly. Melbourne rose and bowed his head to the prince, walking briskly from the room as he realised everything might change now. He and Albert had different means to their shared end - making Victoria happy. If Victoria would be happy with Melbourne in her bed... well, he was hardly about to reject that as a notion.

**Author's Note: This is the first time I've ever written Albert without hating him! Haha! Maybe it's because he's not actually in the way for Lord M and Victoria, but is actually the thing that will allow them to come together. Hm. Anyway! I promise to update my Man in the High Castle fic and this one ASAP, but I'm at the Notre Dame - USC game tonight (go Irish!), so I probably won't be able to write anything at all until tomorrow. In the meantime, thank you so very much for reading and for any feedback.**


	3. The Ambush

"My dear Victoria," said King Leopold, setting down his glass of wine, "I simply can not express to you how I am filled with joy. I knew - I just knew - that you and Albert were perfectly suited for one another."

Victoria turned her eyes to her husband, and she saw the way he was stifling a little smile. Suddenly she choked out a bit of a laugh, and that triggered Albert to laugh, too. He brought his napkin to his lips and gave Victoria a warm expression, something deeply affectionate in a way that seemed to exude relief. Victoria laughed a bit harder, and she glanced across the table to see Lord Melbourne smirking a little.

"What is so funny, Drina?" The Duchess of Kent seemed genuinely confused, and Victoria shook her head madly.

"No, it's nothing. Dear Uncle Leopold. How right you are. Albert and I are... perfectly suited."

She giggled again, trying desperately to stop herself as she remembered the way the poor man had been limp in bed with his fingers on her. It had hurt her feelings at the time, but for some reason now it seemed funny. She wasn't sure why. Albert was still grinning, and he said to Leopold,

"Husbands and wives share many jokes, I believe."

"Indeed." Leopold scowled a little, obviously feeling left out of the humour. Lord Melbourne rescued the entire situation then by saying,

"I hear it is to be bitterly cold tomorrow, Ma'am."

"Well, there go your plans for riding out, Victoria," Albert said jovially. "I simply can not be made to do so if it is frigid."

"Well, fine." Victoria smiled at him and turned her attention to Melbourne. "Lord M has ice in his blood. Don't you, Lord M? If Albert won't ride out with me, surely you will?"

"Perhaps Your Majesty might surrender to the weather and accept a pleasant day sketching before a warm fire," Melbourne suggested, but when Victoria pouted at him, he rolled his eyes a bit and nodded. "Of course I shall ride out with you, Ma'am."

Dinner continued with quiet, pleasant conversation, and when Victoria had finished her dessert, she rose and the others followed suit. Melbourne and Albert made their way to one another and began talking in hushed voices, and Leopold quickly exited the dining room. Victoria started to make her way out into the corridor, for she was to spent the evening with Melbourne and Albert in a drawing room. But her mother caught up to her.

"Drina!" The Duchess was breathless as she trotted toward Victoria. The Duchess looked scandalised then as she glanced around and said in a hushed voice, "What sort a show were you putting on?"

"I beg your pardon, Mama?" Victoria scoffed and shook her head, and the Duchess reached for her shoulders.

"You were flirting," she said plainly, and Victoria shrugged.

"With Albert? Am I not allowed to be friendly with my husband?"

"With Lord Melbourne. And with Albert! You were... you were... giddy!"

"Giddy," Victoria repeated. She puffed up her chest a little and shrugged. "Shouldn't you desire my happiness, Mama?"

"You were behaving like a child, Drina," said the Duchess of Kent, but Victoria pushed her hands from her shoulders and said darkly,

"Goodnight, Mama."

Without another word, she turned and made her way down the corridor. In the blue drawing room where she'd agreed to meet her husband and her prime minister, she found an empty space. They must still be talking, she thought, and she found herself glad that they were so friendly with one another. Things would be far more pleasant like this, she thought.

Then, pacing before the fireplace, she had a sudden vision of herself in bed with Lord Melbourne. He wouldn't hesitate the way Albert had done. He would touch her, she thought, if she asked it of him. And she had Albert's permission. Marrying a man who did not care for women was, probably, the best thing that had ever happened to Victoria. She had practically flung herself at Melbourne, and she understood why he'd had to push her away. She had a duty, as queen, to marry someone of royal blood. And she'd done that. But now she had her prince's permission to make herself happy with someone else.

The door to the drawing room opened then, and Albert and Melbourne came walking in. Albert bowed his head respectfully as Melbourne closed the door. He genuflected and kissed Victoria's hand once he'd approached her, and Albert said calmly,

"Perhaps we could all sit and talk a little, Victoria."

She glanced between them and furrowed her brow. "I'm being ambushed."

Melbourne turned up half his mouth and admitted, "We have indeed been conspiring to speak with you, Ma'am."

"All right." Victoria sank onto the divan before the fireplace, and each of the man took an armchair. Albert was to her left and Melbourne to her right, and suddenly Victoria felt a bit surrounded by them. She laughed nervously and shrugged. "Well. Go on, then, boys."

Albert glanced at Melbourne for a moment, then licked his lip carefully and said to Victoria, "You know, my dear Victoria, that I only want to make you happy as your husband. I look forward to dancing with you at balls, to standing proudly beside you as your spouse at official events. I look forward to long talks, to longer walks, and to giving you presents at Christmas and your birthday."

"That sounds poetic and pleasant, Albert," Victoria nodded, but she flicked her eyes nervously to Melbourne. He seemed very serious all of a sudden. Albert continued in a stilted voice,

"You know very well that if I were inclined toward women, I would not for a moment falter in my desire for you. You are a beautiful woman, Victoria, but... you are a woman. And for a man like me, there is little that can be done to remedy the impasse you and I found ourselves confronting at Windsor."

He was being very careful with his words, but Victoria could vividly remember the feel of him soft beneath her palm as he desperately smashed her hand against his breeches. She pitied him again, and she said softly,

"I would never begrudge you any companion of your own, Albert, given the circumstances."

"Nor would I begrudge you a companion," Albert said firmly. "You and I agreed to be the best of friends, Victoria. To grant one another happiness through our own company and the company of others. And that, I believe, is where your very dear Lord M is painted into the picture."

Victoria snapped her face over to Melbourne, who had lowered his gaze to his knees. His sharp cheekbones had gone a bit pink, and he noted quietly,

"Your Majesty, you came in cognito to Brocket Hall and asked me to... you... it seemed as though there was something specific you wanted then. And I could not give it to you, because I knew very well that I would never make a suitable husband for you. I also knew that you could not stay unwed forever."

"You knew I had to marry a prince," Victoria nodded, her voice shaking, "and I did."

"And you did." Melbourne raised his eyes then and glanced from Albert to Victoria. Then he told her, "Like your husband, Ma'am, I am devoted to your happiness. I shall always do whatever... anything you may ask of me or want of me... anything to make you happy."

"I think," Albert said very softly, "that I am tired. I think perhaps I shall retire early this evening."

Victoria didn't answer, for her eyes were locked onto Melbourne's. He seemed uncertain, and Victoria felt a burn in her own gaze. She had to stand, she knew, in order for Albert to do so. So she pulled herself slowly to her feet and finally turned her attention to her husband. She took Albert's hands in hers and stared down at them, and she whispered,

"Please, Albert. Find someone to make you happy, too."

"I shall try," he said. He brought her knuckles up to his lips and kissed them, and his eyes were dark and warm as he murmured, "Goodnight, my sweet wife."

"Goodnight, Albert." She released his hands, and Albert walked past her. He clapped his hand onto Melbourne's shoulder and gave him a serious nod, and then he continued to the door. It opened and shut quietly, and once Albert was gone, Victoria took the two steps over to Melbourne and stared up at him.

"Do you mean it?" Her voice was just a little whisper then, but she was unable to speak properly. Melbourne tipped his head a little and asked,

"Do you really think, Ma'am, that I wanted to tell you no at Brocket Hall? Don't you realise that it took every single ounce of self-control I had to turn you away? Don't you know how badly it crushed me to see you walk away when I was forced to reject you?"

She could see him then, in his costume at the ball, having come dressed as Elizabeth's companion. He had been clinging to some desperate hope that night, she knew, that perhaps there could still be some small tie between them. But then she remembered the look in his green eyes, his lovely green eyes, on her wedding day. He'd kissed her cheekbone, his lips trembling a bit, and they'd said goodbye, because a married queen couldn't keep up companionship with her prime minister.

But that was before either of them had known that the royal husband Victoria would have would be a man of entirely different inclinations. They hadn't known then that a door would be opened for them. Victoria blinked a few times, trying her best not to cry now, and she reached tentatively for Melbourne's chest. She pressed her palms to his waistcoat and whispered,

"I have never been so heartbroken as I was when I left you at Brocket Hall. Do you know, Lord M, I didn't even realise that I was actually in love with you until you'd already turned me away? I had thought, perhaps, that it was just a very strong admiration. But then you wove a tale of rooks to reject me, and I knew then. I knew that I loved you. I... still do."

"Ma'am." Melbourne reached for her face, his hand incredibly gentle as he stroked at her jaw and tipped her up towards him. Before she knew what was happening, he'd bent down a bit and had pressed his lips to hers. At first, it was just a fleeting brush of his mouth on her own, and there was a sort of vibration in her veins as a result. But then he kissed her again, sucking in air hard through his nose as his mouth became a little more insistent. Victoria gasped, wanting more. She squealed quietly when she felt one of his arms snake around her shoulders and the other hand go to her back. He pulled her close and kissed her harder, his tongue sliding between her lips and curling onto hers.

Victoria felt drunk then, leaning against him for support as she went up onto her tiptoes. Her hands went to his hair on instinct, snaring into his dark curls as her fingertips traced on his scalp. The kiss seemed to go on forever, and soon Victoria thought she might faint. She pulled back at last, and when she stared up at Melbourne, his eyes were a little glazed and his lips were shining. His breath shook as he blinked quickly.

"I could be yours," she noted, "and you could be mine."

"Yes." He nodded, his hands releasing her as he took a step backward. He shut his eyes for a moment, and a happy little smile came over his face. "Yes."

"You don't have to ride out with me tomorrow," she informed him. "It will be dreadfully cold. Sketching before a warm fire does sound very nice. Will you come in the afternoon?"

He opened his eyes and nodded firmly. "I will. Thank you, Ma'am."

Victoria found herself grinning then, unable to help herself. She reached for his hand, and he smiled again as he laced his fingers through hers. She found herself wondering if it would ever be possible to have him in her bed, if those logistics could be sorted out properly. She'd have to move Lehzen, to be certain. But perhaps she could work with Albert. If the two of them had intentions of sharing their beds with their respective companions, surely they could find ways to help one another avoid scandal. But Victoria wasn't even sure that was something Lord Melbourne wanted. Perhaps he only wanted kisses.

"Lord M," she said carefully, and he threw up an eyebrow in response. She cleared her throat and asked delicately, "When you say that you will be my companion... is there... what is the limit of this companionship? Physically, I mean."

"The limit," Melbourne repeated. He scoffed quietly then and shrugged, and a dreamy sort of look came over him. "You know, Ma'am, I never in a million years thought I'd find myself in a position to say something like this to you, but... there is no limit."

"None?" Victoria squeezed at his hand a little, and she knew that he could read her doubt. He came closer to her and kissed her lips very carefully, and then he whispered against her mouth,

"None. No limit, Ma'am. You and I shall have whatever sort of companionship you desire."

"I do desire you, Lord M," Victoria admitted. He kissed her again, harder this time, and then she asked him, "Does that make me wicked?"

"No," he said firmly. He planted one more kiss against her lips and stood upright. He looked very hungry then, and his eyes fluttered shut. His throat bobbed beneath his cravat, and he whispered, "For tonight, I think... I ought to go. But I shall see you tomorrow, Ma'am."

Victoria squeezed at his hand and then let it go. She was almost overwhelmed then, by the idea that she might somehow fulfill her duty as queen and still keep her Lord M. She could not stop the tear that boiled over and ran down her cheek then, but her voice was steady as she told him,

"Goodnight, Lord M."

**Author's Note: So, the three of them have reached an arrangement. Will Albert find a companion of his own? How will Albert and Victoria work together to facilitate the logistics of this arrangement? And what exactly will happen the first time Victoria takes Lord M into her bedroom? This story is way too much fun to write. Mwah hahaha. Thank you for reading, and a huuuuuuuge thank you for any feedback.**


	4. Allowed at Last to Love You

"Thank you, Skerrett." Victoria smiled over her shoulder at her dresser as she finished brushing out Victoria's waves. Mrs Jenkins had already hauled away the day's clothes, and now Victoria found herself in a wispy nightgown, making her way from her dressing room back into her bedroom.

She'd arranged earlier in the day for Lehzen to have her quarters moved. It was only proper, Victoria had said, for her to move her governess further away now that she was a married woman. It wouldn't do for Lehzen to be so near marital relations between Victoria and Albert. Lehzen had seemed mildly perturbed, but had obediently watched as her belongings were hauled down winding corridors to a more secluded part of the wing. Now Victoria's rooms and Albert's were the only thing in this particular corner of the palace, and she liked it that way.

She'd seen him take Lord Alfred Paget to his small drawing room earlier, and now, as Victoria climbed into her bed, she could not help but wonder if perhaps they'd gone for more than coffee and a talk. Perhaps Lord Alfred would be the one to bring Albert happiness. That thought made her smile a little, and as she settled back against her pillows, she found herself thinking of Lord Melbourne.

They'd spent the afternoon together in happy solitude, with Victoria sketching a warm summer scene to offset the frigidity outside. Melbourne had had two glasses of red wine as he sat talking to Victoria about an acrimonious vote in the House, about the prospects for colonising New Zealand, about the way that one of the most elder Peers had collapsed in the House but was doing fine now. They talked and talked, and before he'd left, they'd kissed. He'd come to dinner, but she hadn't seen him since.

Suddenly there was a little knock on Victoria's door, and she frowned as she called,

"Enter."

The door creaked open slowly, and Albert came walking in, keeping his eyes carefully averted from Victoria as she sat up a bit. He had a tiny smile on his face and his hands behind his back, and he told her,

"I am playing cards with a few friends in my drawing room, Victoria."

"Are you?" She frowned a little and wondered why he'd come. But then he raised his warm eyes to her and nodded.

"Yes. Lord Alfred Paget and Lord Melbourne have joined me for cards and whiskey. But Lord Melbourne finds he is tired of cards, and, if I am honest, Lord Alfred and I are tired, too."

"Tired." Victoria felt her heart pound all of a sudden, and her throat felt thick as she whispered, "Perhaps you ought to go to bed if you're tired, Albert."

"Yes. I was thinking the same thing. I wonder if you might be good enough to entertain my other guest for a while... while Lord Alfred and I get a bit of rest. Perhaps you might send Lord Melbourne back to my drawing room in a few hours?"

Victoria blinked, feeling her eyes sear. "Thank you, Albert."

He smiled kindly and nodded. He took a few steps toward her bed, and once he'd reached her, he tucked her hair behind her ear and informed her,

"You look like a dream for him, Victoria."

"Are you certain?" She was nervous all of a sudden, and Albert nodded. He brought her hair over one shoulder with careful hands, arranging it just so, and he murmured, "Sit just like that. You look like a painting. Goodnight, my dear wife."

"Goodnight, Albert." Victoria watched him go, watched the way he left the door propped open. A moment later it pushed open again, and then Lord Melbourne came inside and very carefully shut the door behind him.

He looked even more nervous than her as he bowed to her at the doorway and said in the gentlest voice she'd ever heard from him,

"Good evening, Your Majesty."

"Lord M." Victoria straightened her back a little, trying to look like a painting, like how Albert had arranged her to look. He did have an eye for art. She found herself picking at the blankets a little as Melbourne approached her. He folded his hands before himself, and then his eyes found hers.

"I don't know how to do any of it," Victoria admitted fretfully. "You will have to teach me, Lord M, just like you've taught me everything else."

He turned up a corner of his mouth and nodded. "I don't mind in the least, Ma'am. In this particular area of study, I find I am more than willing to be your tutor."

There was silence then, for Victoria found herself hungry for something she couldn't identify. She needed to see him, she realised. She needed to see his body.

"Please," she whispered, "will you take off your clothes, Lord M?"

"Yes, of course." His hands seemed strangely steady as he began to untie his cravat. He was nervous, too, she knew, but he also seemed anxious to continue moving all of this forward. He wanted her; she could read it in his eyes. But he possessed confidence about this - about physical relations - that Victoria had not earned. She needed experience. She needed him.

"It was very kind of Albert to help get you here," she noted as Melbourne set his cravat on the bench by the foot of the bed. He stripped off his coat and then his waistcoat and shirt sleeves, and he noted quietly,

"Yes, well. Lord Alfred and I have known one another for some time. It would not seem strange that he and I would be entertained in the prince's quarters. Together."

"No, I suppose that wouldn't look very strange," Victoria nodded. She gulped as his fingers went to the buttons of his breeches, and she asked,

"Did anyone see you come from his rooms to mine?"

"No, Ma'am," Melbourne said simply. He hesitated then, and she took a moment to study the way his chest was lean but toned, the way his arms had the gentle ripple of muscle without being bulky. She cast her eyes all over his neck, his shoulders, his chest and stomach... the parts of him she'd never been allowed to see, and she informed him,

"I want to touch you."

"Yes, Ma'am." Melbourne smirked a little and admitted, "I want to touch you, too."

She felt a little quiver then, a tremble behind her breasts. She wanted him. She wanted him badly, even though she still did not quite know what having him would entail. She blinked a few times and felt a little drunk as she begged him,

"The breeches, too, Lord M?"

He was silent as he moved to stand beside her bed. His eyes were serious as he reached for her hands and carefully arranged her fingers on the buttons. He wanted her to do it. Victoria gulped and felt a flush of wet heat between her legs. Her fingers shook badly as she unbuttoned the breeches, each button a struggle against her nerves. When the placket was open, Melbourne pushed the garment down along with his cotton drawstring underwear.

Then she saw it - his manhood. She'd never seen one of them in person, and certainly not like this. This one was hard, the way Albert couldn't make his be. This one was excited. Melbourne was excited. Victoria reached on instinct to touch it, curious about how it would feel beneath her palm and fingers. It was like velvet over stone, silky flesh covering a solid length. Melbourne hissed a little, but she could tell it was with pleasure and not pain. He tipped his head back a bit as he shoved his breeches further down and stepped out of them. He was naked then, and he crawled up onto Victoria's bed without asking her for permission.

She moved to lie on her back then, for it felt like the right thing to do, and suddenly Melbourne was hovering above her. He stared down at her and finally smiled a little, and he told her,

"I never thought I would... do you know how badly I wanted you, Ma'am? I knew I could never have you, but I wanted you so badly just the same."

She reached up to hold his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs under his eyes. She studied the lines of age on him - the crinkles at the outsides of his eyes, the thin lines around his mouth. He was so much older than her. He'd lived through scandals and wars and kings that she hadn't. Wasn't she just a child to him, a student of a queen who desperately needed his help to keep from falling on her face?

No, she thought. She was much more than that to him, just as he was much more than her prime minister. He was everything, she thought suddenly. She was desperately in love with him, and now she could have him. Now she could be his, and he could be hers.

"Will it hurt?" Her voice crackled in the quiet of the room. She'd been told by Lehzen that it would hurt, but what did Lehzen know? How could Lehzen possibly know what it felt like to have a man inside of her.

"It will hurt much less, Ma'am, if your body is... prepared a little." Melbourne slid over until he was beside her, and he reached with a steady hand to pull up the hem of her nightgown. Victoria breathed in the feel of him near her as she helped him draw it up and off. He tossed it onto the mattress beside her and cupped one of her breasts in his hand. He huffed out a little breath and whispered,

"Oh, Your Majesty. How very beautiful you are."

"Lord M." She turned her face to him and just stared, just studied his eyes as he caressed her with fingers that certainly seemed to know what they were doing. He finally slid his palm down over her stomach and let his fingers nestle between her legs, and Victoria gasped. This was where Albert had touched her, but this didn't feel anything like that. Where Albert's movements had been almost clinical, Melbourne's hand moved with demonstrable interest. His fingers seemed like they were searching for something as they twisted carefully inside of Victoria's body. She was shocked at the feel of him stretching her open, for she'd never known her body could accommodate an invasion like this. Melbourne's eyes flashed, and he pushed his fingers a little further into Victoria. He moved them around, and though it stung a bit, Victoria found herself moaning quietly.

"Too much?" His whisper trembled then, and Victoria shook her head against the pillow. She reached, very much on instinct, to wrap her fingers around the length of his member, and something told her to move her hand on him. She started to pump her palm along his shaft, and he groaned softly as his fingers began to focus on the sensitive nub of flesh Albert had shown Victoria.

They just touched one another then, for what felt like a very long time. Victoria kept her head driven against the pillow as Melbourne's fingers made her body go warm and tight. She kept stroking at him, relishing the way he twitched and grew under her touch. After a long while, she whispered,

"Please kiss me."

He said nothing in response, but she felt his lips on hers a moment later. Victoria reached with her left hand to hold his face, and she gladly opened her mouth to grant him entry. His tongue was confident but gentle, dragging over her bottom lip and the roof of her mouth. Everything started to feel very tense then; her ears began to ring and she felt a coil of almost anxious pleasure in her abdomen. Melbourne's fingers were pumping and twisting, and the painful burn had given way to something deeply satisfying. His thumb circled and pressed on the part of her that was more sensitive than the rest - the part Albert had learnt about somehow. Victoria wondered distantly if Albert was losing his own virginity right now. He'd never been with anyone, he'd said. What could he do to Lord Alfred? What could Lord Alfred do to him? It didn't matter, Victoria thought, as long as he was happy the way she was.

"Lord M," she whined then, feeling like she was about to snap. He pulled away from her mouth and latched his mouth onto her neck, and Victoria blinked quickly in surprise at the magnificent feel of his lips and tongue dragging from her ear to her shoulder. She let go of his erection and moved her hands to his dark curly hair, holding fast as he kissed her neck and let out a low, vibrating noise on her skin. Victoria lost herself then, tumbling into some unseen chasm as his fingers stilled. She was clenching around him, she knew. He'd feel it. He'd feel her satisfaction as it boiled in her veins. He groaned more insistently against her neck as Victoria came, and then suddenly he was atop her again.

He pushed her knees apart and encouraged her to bend them, and Victoria gasped as she pointed to his fingers. There was a little blood on them. Melbourne gulped visibly and licked his bottom lip, clamouring off the bed as he mumbled,

"They'll come for your sheets, and they'll need to believe this happened at Windsor."

"Is it normal to... to bleed?" Victoria propped herself up a little and felt very self-conscious as she watched him pour water over his fingers at the washstand. Melbourne dried his fingers and nodded firmly.

"Quite normal, Ma'am."

He stalked back toward the bed then, and she felt her body come alive again with want. He looked so strange, naked with his manhood at attention. But as he climbed up again and moved toward her, she thought that she'd been waiting for this, for this exact moment. She'd wanted him before she'd even known what he could give her. She'd wanted him - her Lord M. She'd gone to Brocket Hall to beg him to marry her despite the utter impossibility of such a thing. He'd wisely rejected her, but he didn't have to reject her now.

He certainly did not seem to be rejecting her anymore as he moved back between her legs and carefully placed the tip of his erection at the place where his fingers had played. He gave her a serious look, and Victoria nodded despite her own nervousness. Melbourne leaned forward a little and lowered his lips to Victoria's, his breath warm on her mouth. He kissed her delicately and pushed in a little, and Victoria squirmed at the feel of him filling her. She clutched at the sheets and arched up against him as he kept pushing in. But he'd readied her body; she was wet and swollen and he'd broken the barrier that had tried to keep his fingers out. So his member slid into her rather easily, and once he was buried, he paused and panted a little.

Victoria soaked in the feel of it, of being stretched and filled by him. She let her hands run around his back, because it felt good to touch him there. She slid her palms down to his backside and held him there for a while, and then finally he whispered against her lips,

"Providence has somehow deigned me worthy of you, Victoria. I am allowed at last to love you."

She should have scolded him for using her name, but instead she felt a tear work its way from her eye down over her face. It tumbled onto the pillow, and she mumbled onto his mouth,

"Say it again."

"Victoria." He kissed her, much harder this time, and he began to pulse his hips. He pulled back just a little and drove himself back in, and she squealed and writhed in response. He kept repeating that motion, a very gentle in and out, like a rower with a boat. Backward and forward, empty and full. He kept going, his pace accelerating as Victoria's body surrendered all its defences against him. She held his face as he kissed her, and when at last they both needed air, he touched his forehead to hers and mumbled,

"I have found Heaven, right here in London."

"I love you," she whispered, sounding a bit frantic even to her own ears. "I love you, Lord M."

"Mmph. Victoria..." He jerked his hips rather wildly then, bucking a few times, and he collapsed down a little. She could feel him twitching inside of her, and then something warm leaked out of her body, dribbling onto the sheets. That was the seed that men spilled, she thought. Would he put a child on her? It would be good if he did; everyone would think it was Albert's, but she would know the truth.

He stayed inside of her until his erection withered, and then he carefully arranged himself on the pillows beside her. He put his forearm to his head and whispered,

"Thank you, Ma'am."

Victoria scoffed and pushed herself up onto one elbow. "I'm the one with the thanks to give, Lord M. Both to you and to Albert."

Melbourne stared up at her for a very long while, and finally she felt awkward under the weight of his gaze.

"What is it?" She asked with a nervous little laugh, and he said very seriously,

"You are so lovely I can hardly stand it. That's all." He dragged his knuckles from her shoulder to her wrist, making her shiver, and he asked, "May I... please, Ma'am, would you grant me a favour?"

"That depends," she teased, twirling her hair around her finger. "What's the favour?"

Melbourne's throat bobbed. "I should like very much to hold you for just a little while, until I have to go."

"Oh." Victoria felt again like she might cry, and she nodded vigorously. "Yes. I think I might grant you that."

She nestled herself against him, breathing in the earthy scent of him as he cradled her against his chest. He stroked at her ribcage and she cast a leg across him, and she shut her eyes, unable to calibrate the level of bliss. This felt so good, so very right. She'd pined after him, but she'd never realised it could be like this.

Somehow, she fell asleep. He'd worn her out in a way she hadn't known was possible. It was relaxing, lying against him and letting her breath synchronise with his. So she fell asleep, and when she blinked her eyes open, he was buttoning his waistcoat.

"You're leaving," she mumbled, and Melbourne smirked a bit as he reached for his cravat.

"Lord Alfred and I both have carriages waiting, Ma'am," he said. "What a night of cards and whiskey it was for everyone involved."

Victoria laughed a little, stifling a yawn. "Perhaps the three of you might make a regular occurrence of these card games."

Melbourne nodded once and approached the bed. "Yes, Ma'am. I think we might."

He bent to kiss her, taking his time but being almost maddeningly gentle. He stroked at Victoria's hair and took a very deep breath, and he whispered,

"Goodnight, Ma'am."

She smiled at him as he pulled away from her. "Goodnight, Lord M."

She watched him go, and it should have hurt as he shut the door behind him. But he would be back, she knew. She would ride out with him and spend time in endless conversation with him, and he would be back in this room.

She was his now, and he was hers, and Victoria thought she must have the happiest marriage that had ever existed.

**Author's Note: Yay! They finally got with each other! The next chapter will involve Lord M and Albert in deep conversation on the way to the House. So... yeah. I look forward to them talking with each other. ;) Thanks so much for reading; feedback is valued like gold.**


	5. Red Roses

"Oh... good morning, Your Highness."

"Lord Melbourne." Albert smiled pleasantly at Melbourne, who was making his way out of Victoria's drawing room. "Has she finished her boxes?"

"Just a few more signatures, sir," Melbourne nodded. "I'd stay longer, but I'm afraid I'm needed at the House for a vote."

"Ah. Well, since the weather is so fine today, I thought I might see if Her Majesty might enjoy riding out." Albert was carefully measuring his words; there were servants about. Melbourne folded his hands before himself and nodded.

"I think she would enjoy that immensely, sir. She's been itching to ride out, but it's been so cold."

"It is too bad you are needed in the House, Lord Melbourne," said Albert kindly. "She prefers to ride with you, I think."

Melbourne was quiet then, glancing around to try and locate a listening pair of ears. He finally mumbled, "I wonder if Your Highness has any more card nights planned? I find that you and Lord Alfred are most amiable partners for games and whiskey, sir."

"Ah. This Thursday, perhaps?" Albert asked. Alfred couldn't come too often, he knew, just as Melbourne couldn't go too often to Victoria. But there was little scandal to be found in a group of men enjoying cards and liquor late into the night. And now that Lehzen had been banished, the royal couple's chambers were almost entirely private. Melbourne looked pleased at the invitation, and his lips curled up a bit as he said,

"Thursday, then. Thank you, sir. I look forward to it."

"As do I, Lord Melbourne." Albert clapped his hand on the man's shoulder and leaned it, lowering his voice to a little whisper. "She has seemed blissful these last few days. For that, I thank you."

Melbourne nodded. "And I thank you, Your Highness."

"Well. Off to the House with you, Prime Minister. You've work to do!" Albert stood upright and smiled, and Melbourne bowed his head politely before striding away. Albert let himself into Victoria's drawing room, intent on asking her to ride out with him, but as soon as he came into the space, she flew from her desk and exclaimed,

"Albert! I need your help!"

He frowned and quickly approached her desk. "Is something wrong, Victoria?"

She pinched her lips and walked around her desk. "You have a fine eye for art. For aesthetics. You like when things are orderly and pretty."

Albert frowned a little but nodded. "That's true enough."

"Well, I find myself most displeased with the gown that was made for me. For the ball tomorrow night. It is... plain. Very plain. I need them to make improvements, and quickly, but I've no eye for any of this."

Albert chuckled a little and shrugged. "I am no dress designer, Victoria."

"Think of it as art, then," she insisted. She snatched his hand and dragged him through the drawing room, down the corridor and into her dressing room. There was a gown on a mannequin, a tiny little mannequin for a tiny little queen. He saw at once what she meant; the gown was cream silk of high quality, a beautiful off-the-shoulder neckline and well-filled sleeves. But the silk was minimally adorned, with only a few bits of paneling on the bodice and skirt. There would be countless women at the ball who would look much more elegant than the queen, and that wouldn't do. Albert drifted his fingers over the gown and demanded,

"Who made this?"

"Mrs Jenkins designed it," Victoria sighed. "She's very kind, and she's a good dresser, but she is of plain countenance herself. It is pretty. But it is simple. What can be done?"

"Flowers," Albert said immediately. When Victoria frowned up at him, he nodded and reminded her,

"Lord Melbourne is very fond of flowers. Given the season, I think you should adorn yourself in red roses. Bind your curls together with red roses; wear your tiara that has the rubies in it. Your ruby necklace and earrings. A corsage of red roses at your wrist. Have them pin roses onto the waist of the gown. The gown is simple, but with an abundance of red roses and rubies, I think -"

"Yes." Victoria was smiling broadly then, and she suddenly snared her arms up around Albert's shoulders. "Oh, I knew you'd have an answer. You have such an eye for all this, Albert."

"For women's attire?" he teased, but Victoria rolled her eyes and specified,

"For appearances. Speaking of which... I don't think I've thanked you properly for... for bringing him to me."

They were alone in here, but Albert still found himself leaning onto the wall and reaching to lock the door. He crossed his arms over his chest and asked her quietly,

"He made you happy? Promise me he did."

"Very happy." Victoria nodded and looked wistfully out the window for a moment. "I learnt what it could be... and I... oh, Albert I want more of it. So much more."

"Well, to that end," he said, clearing his throat a little, "I am hosting more cards and drinking in my rooms on Thursday. Lord Alfred and Lord Melbourne will both be in attendance."

Victoria grinned. Then she circled around the mannequin, dragging her fingers on the silk, and she asked gently,

"Did he make you happy, Albert?"

Lord Alfred, she meant. She couldn't understand what it would really mean, two men being together. She barely understood what it meant for a man and woman to join. But Albert shut his eyes and was suddenly flooded with the taste and feel of what had happened in his own bedroom, and he choked out,

"Yes. He made me very happy. I hope he can say the same for me."

"Good." Victoria nodded and reminded him, "At my coronation ball, it was Lord Alfred who came to my rescue when the Grand Due had his hands all over me."

"I hear from Alfred himself that it was Lord Melbourne who grew very angry and send Alfred over to say a telegram had come from Petersburg."

Victoria smiled a little and lowered her eyes. She would not be surprised, he knew, to know that Melbourne had called the Russian dog off of her. She sighed and finally said,

"They are both very fine men, I think."

"They are." Albert hesitated and then said, "I will be very proud to dance with you at the ball, Victoria. I will gladly whirl you about as your spouse. But know that you may put him on your dance card as often as you wish."

"People would talk," Victoria mumbled. "I can dance with him once. Perhaps twice. No more than that."

"Well. I can not dance with Alfred at all," Albert laughed, and Victoria grinned up at him. She sounded playful then as she suggested, "With your queen's permission, perhaps..."

Albert shook his head and chewed his lip, looking over the plain cream silk gown. He nodded once, very crisply, and said, "I shall send for dozens of red roses at once, Victoria, and your dressers can cover you in them."

* * *

 

"Her Majesty the Queen and His Royal Highness Prince Albert."

Melbourne looked up from where he stood talking with Emma Portman and watched as the double doors to the ballroom entered. Victoria entered on Albert's arm, and suddenly Melbourne's breath was taken away entirely.

She was dressed in a cream silk gown, almost simple in its design, but she was bedecked in roses. She had her hair curled and pulled over one shoulder, with five or six full red roses adorning the place where the curls were tied up. She had three red roses pinned to her blue sash, and another three or so at her wrist, covering her cream lace gloves. She had a diamond and ruby tiara on, with ruby jewelry to match. Suddenly Melbourne thought he was looking at the most beautiful woman in the entire world. He bowed along with everyone else, and as Emma curtsied beside him, she whispered in awe,

"She looks like a jewel."

Melbourne couldn't answer. He just watched as Albert led Victoria to the dance floor for a private waltz. This was a small ball to commemorate the wedding. There had been many events to commemorate the wedding, and this was just one, but something felt different tonight. For the first time, Melbourne knew that Victoria loved him. He knew he would touch her again, that he would be in her bed on Thursday. And now, as he watched her move, her skirts swishing around her little legs, he knew that she couldn't be more beautiful.

Albert was a good dancer. Melbourne had noticed that the first time he'd jealously watched Victoria dance with him. The two of them were talking quietly now, and Victoria was smirking with amusement at something. He had his hand on her back in a way that seemed protective but not lustful, and their hands were clasped rather loosely together. She nodded up at him, at something he'd said, and Melbourne watched Albert's eyes flick for a half second to Lord Alfred.

Alfred stood in a small group of elder statesmen, watching the dance just like Melbourne was doing. He was focused on the prince where Melbourne was focused on the queen, but he and Alfred had the same predicament, the same blessed situation. Both had been granted freedom they never would have had if Victoria and Albert had not married. Alfred's eyes turned to Melbourne, almost as if he could feel the other man's gaze upon him, and Melbourne nodded once.

At last the waltz ended, and Victoria patted Albert's chest affectionately before stepping away. She chatted for a long while with a few of her ladies and their husbands, and from beside Melbourne, Emma Portman said gently,

"You can't look at her like that, anymore, William."

Melbourne frowned and drank from his wine. "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, Emma."

She gave him a meaningful look and whispered, "You're in love with her, and every single person in this room can see it."

"She is married to His Royal Highness," Melbourne said plainly, "and I know far, far better than to violate that reality, Emma."

"I'm glad to hear it. Now, if you'll excuse me, the Duchess of Sutherland and I must spend ten minutes insisting the other looks more beautiful."

"Women." Melbourne rolled his eyes a bit playfully as Emma walked away, and then finally he saw Victoria approaching him. She was so pretty that he couldn't breathe in the slightest. He set his wine down quickly on a passing tray and bowed a little, and when he raised his eyes, Victoria said very quietly,

"You look well tonight, Lord M."

"Your Majesty." He blinked quickly, flicking his eyes up and down her form, and he whispered, "I quite like the roses."

She smiled broadly then and confessed, "The dress was so boring. I asked Albert for advice. He suggested red roses."

"Oh." Melbourne's throat felt thick. "Yes, he's got quite a sense of aesthetics."

"He suggested them because he thought perhaps you might like them," Victoria said, her voice careful and quiet. A spike of sudden want, of need, of admiration and something much deeper, sent itself flushing through Melbourne's veins, and he shut his eyes.

"I have an open spot on my dance card," Victoria said, for the orchestra was beginning another waltz. "Please, Lord M, would you..."

"The honour would be entirely mine, Ma'am," he said quickly, holding his hand out to her. When she took it, the lace of her glove scratching his palm a little, he had to resist the urge to sweep her straight into a kiss. That wouldn't come now, he knew. That would come later. She would come later.

Melbourne felt his eyes go wide at that explicit thought, and he smirked a little as he settled into a dancing stance with Victoria.

"What's so funny?" She smiled up at him, and he shook his head.

"Nothing's funny, Ma'am," he lied. "It's just that you are so astonishingly lovely. That's all."

She squeezed at his shoulder a little, and her voice was barely audible as she whispered, "I want you tonight."

"Thursday, Ma'am," he reminded her. "I'm coming for cards on Thursday."

"That seems so very long from now," she complained, sounding every bit the petulant young woman she could be. Melbourne subconsciously dragged his thumb over hers and said reassuringly,

"It'll be here before you know it. If things had gone as they were meant to do, Ma'am, there wouldn't be any... card games."

"No, indeed. You're right. I must be patient." Victoria frowned and shook her head. "But I am so very impatient when it comes to you, Lord M."

There was quiet between them then as they both enjoyed the dance, the feel of moving together. He studied her curls, the roses at the nape of her neck, the rubies that danced across her collarbone, and he didn't care if it was obvious he was staring. Finally he heard Victoria ask,

"How did the vote go?"

"Hmm? Oh. It passed easily, Ma'am. Just a logistical bill - funding for naval endeavours in China."

"That sounds dull," Victoria admitted, and Melbourne shrugged.

"Politics is only exciting about two percent of the time," he said, and Victoria laughed a little. Then her eyes locked onto his, as if she'd been drawn in by an unseen magnet. Her smile faltered a little, and so did her steps, and after a very long moment, Melbourne squeezed her hand and whispered,

"Spend a few moments staring at your husband now, Victoria."

She snapped to rights, yanked out of her trance. She turned her eyes over to where Albert stood talking with the Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peel, which was a wisely diplomatic thing for him to be doing. She smiled lovingly in his direction, and then the waltz came to an end.

Melbourne stepped back from her, holding her hand delicately as he bowed and she gave him a little curtsy. He released her hand and murmured,

"Thank you for the dance, Your Majesty."

"Cards," she whispered. "Thursday."

He tipped his head and promised her, "It isn't so very far away. Perhaps you might dance with Lord Alfred."

"Oh," she nodded. "That seems like a good idea. Thank you, Lord M."

He rather boldly closed the gap between them then and bent just a little so he could keep his voice very, very quiet.

"You are the most beautiful woman on Earth tonight, Victoria."

Then he walked away, leaving her looking breathless for a moment before she strode confidently over to Lord Alfred.

**Author's Note: So, it's all well and good that the four of these people are happy with their arrangement, buuuuuut... what if other people start to notice the dynamics? Hmmm... as always, thanks for reading and please do leave a comment if you get a quick moment. Thank you!**


	6. Absolutely Fascinated By Gardening

"Ah. Lord Melbourne. I wonder if you might join me for a walk in the gardens, now that spring finally seems to be granting us the beginnings of her presence."

"Of course, Your Highness. Thank you." Melbourne nodded. He'd come to Buckingham Palace to see Victoria, of course, but he figured Albert must have a good reason for asking to see him privately. The two men made their way downstairs and out the glass doors onto the lawn, and for a few moments, they walked in quiet discussion about politics - slavery in America and British efforts to resist it, the expansion of workhouse programs, and other matters that felt profoundly mundane on a day like today.

"Lord Melbourne," Albert said at last, once they were far enough away from the palace that no one could hear, "You have played cards with Lord Alfred and myself four times now."

"So I have, sir," Melbourne nodded. His mind was flooded, suddenly, with the feel of Victoria's skin soft beneath his touch, of her body cinched tightly around him, of her quiet voice moaning his name in the darkness of her room. Melbourne cleared his throat and said softly, "I am very grateful for your... hospitality, sir."

"I wonder if you might return that hospitality," Albert said thoughtfully. When Melbourne frowned a little, Albert pointed out, "Parliament will be in recess for a few weeks soon. You will have little to do by way of official duties. You speak often of your beautiful greenhouses at Brocket Hall. Perhaps you did not know, Lord Melbourne, but I myself am absolutely fascinated by gardening."

"Are you, sir?" Melbourne paused on the lawn, folding his hands behind him and giving Albert a knowing little smile. "You have great interest in orchids and lilies?"

Albert lowered his eyes and murmured, "It would be far easier, in such a small house, with a tiny retinue, for you to pass the whole night with her. I am merely trying to facilitate her happiness, Lord Melbourne. She is my wife, and I care very deeply for her. These card games are not enough for her. I can tell. She mourns you when she wakes. I see it in her eyes at breakfast."

Melbourne's stomach clenched a little, and he nodded crisply as he asked,

"Your Highness, I wonder if you and Her Majesty might consider a brief visit to my home at Brocket Hall. It would be my profound honour to show you the flowers I grow there."

Albert curled his lips up. "Yes. I think that would be very fine indeed."

Melbourne's face went serious then. "And what of Lord Alfred, sir?"

Albert frowned and looked away, and his eyes went wet all of a sudden. He knitted his leather gloved hands before him and said in a rather embarrassed tone,

"Not all affection lasts forever."

Melbourne sighed and nodded. "Sir James Lacy."

Albert scoffed. "No, indeed… Sir James Lacy has been quite friendly toward me, as it happens, but it is a simple matter of incompatibility with Lord Alfred, I'm afraid. He says he finds me… cold."

"Cold." Melbourne shook his head and insisted, "Your Highness, I think your treatment of Her Majesty has been very warm indeed."

Albert seemed very hurt all of a sudden, and he blinked quickly as he shook his head and stared at a tree. "Alfred… he and I found one another in this court because, well, the options are rather limited. He will find happiness elsewhere. I wish him nothing but that happiness."

Melbourne licked his bottom lip and shrugged. "Sir James Lacy is young - an aspiring Whig politician. I might like to speak with him sometime about his political goals, ways of gaining favour with the establishment. Perhaps he might care to join us at Brocket Hall."

Albert smiled sadly and turned his eyes back to Melbourne. "How kind you are, Lord Melbourne. I do not know Sir James Lacy well enough yet for such an invitation. Perhaps in future visits, he might be included. For now, my concern is Victoria. My concern will always be Victoria. And I want for her to wake beside the man she loves."

Melbourne felt a guilty sort of stirring in his chest, and he told Albert, "She loves you, too, sir. In a very unique, very important way, I think."

Albert nodded. HIs face went quite serious then, and he cleared his throat. "Lord Melbourne, there are whispers."

"There are always whispers, sir," Melbourne said rather dismissively, but Albert insisted,

"There was a cartoon in the newspaper claiming that Her Majesty was a bigamist. That she had two husbands - one her father, the other her brother."

Melbourne felt sick at that, and he shook his head vehemently. "Your Highness, I have endured all manner of ridiculous public criticism in my life, and -"

"I want to protect her from this," Albert insisted vehemently. "She deserves better. It is not my fault that I prefer men in my bed. She ought not be shamed for it."

Melbourne was silent then, studying the way that the very first buds of spring were appearing on the twigs of the long-dormant trees. He adjusted his top hat and murmured,

"If she were with child, and you were to express your excitement about fatherhood, sir, such rumours might give way to national excitement about an heir."

"Well… will you try to put a child on her?" Albert asked, and all of a sudden he seemed like he might cry. "It is asking much of you, I know, but…"

"I have been doing nothing to stop the process, sir," Melbourne said delicately. "She is young. She is healthy. I think it will happen, sooner rather than later. Now… how soon can we all get to Brocket Hall?"

* * *

"Oh, Lord M. These are all so lovely." Victoria grinned as she walked through Melbourne's greenhouses. He'd shown her and Albert countless flowers - tropical creations that seemed unreal in their size and colour, lovely rosebushes, lilies and orchids of every kind. Now he was standing before a thick arrangement of palms, and as he dragged his fingers over the fronds, he said quietly,

"It's prettier in the daytime. With the sunlight coming in instead of the wall sconces."

"I think the shadows give a certain air of mystery, Lord Melbourne," Albert said warmly, "but I look forward to seeing it again tomorrow. Sometimes a different view of the same picture creates an entirely new work of art."

"Quite so, Your Highness."

Albert looked around, as if to make very sure that no one else was in the greenhouse. They were entirely alone. He turned to Victoria and told her softly,

"Lord Melbourne was good enough to grant us private rooms adjacent to his own. The Baroness Lehzen, Lady Sutherland, and Lady Portman will be staying on the other side of the house. The servants will be downstairs."

Victoria suddenly understood. She looked from one man to the other and realised they had not come here for flowers. Her mouth fell open a little, and she asked very quietly,

"Would it be possible for… for Lord M to come to me and stay?"

"Quite possible, Ma'am," Melbourne nodded. "This is a small house, and the corridors and narrow and closed off. I do not think anyone will find it odd that the host and the royal guests occupy one wing on their own."

Victoria turned her eyes to Albert then, feeling her gaze sear with grateful tears. She reached for his hand and squeezed and said,

"The things you do for me, Albert."

He smiled a little and suggested, "Perhaps Lord Melbourne might spend a little more time explaining the intricacies of growing orchids to me. I find myself absolutely fascinated by the process, by the patience involved. Lord Melbourne, would you mind terribly?"

"No, of course not, sir," Melbourne said. He licked his lip a little as his eyes coursed up and down Victoria's form. She nodded and said deliberately,

"It was a long and tiring travel day. Perhaps I shall have Skerrett ready me for bed now."

Albert bent to plant a chaste kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight, my most gracious queen and wife."

"Goodnight, Albert." Victoria touched at his chest and nodded up to him. She turned to Melbourne and whispered, "I shall see you, Lord M?"

"Yes, Ma'am." He seemed to be stifling a smile then. Both men bowed a little as Victoria turned to go. As she opened the greenhouse door and hurried to close it, she could hear the men discussing orchids.

* * *

She fell asleep before he got there. She was so genuinely tired from the long carriage ride and the tedious dinner that she drifted off to sleep in the comfortable bed she'd been given.

She was awakened by the feel of a hand gently coursing over her hair, by the sound of a familiar and comforting voice saying quietly,

"Victoria…"

She blinked her eyes open to see him - Lord Melbourne - standing beside the bed in a nightshirt and brocade dressing gown. He smiled down at her and asked,

"Are you too tired, Ma'am, for anything physical?"

"No!" She sat up quickly and shoved her hair from her eyes. "No. I drifted off is all."

"The Prince and I thought it wise that I wait until the house had gone to sleep before I came," Melbourne said. He cast his eyes over the bed and asked rather nervously, "May I join you?"

"Yes." She nodded and watched him untie his dressing gown, which he hung up on the hook attached to the bedpost. Victoria slid open and made room for him, and he settled down against the pillows and stared at her in the dim light of the room.

The first time they'd been together, he'd been careful, because she'd been a virgin. The second time, he'd shown her how to climb atop him and rock until they both found their pleasure. The third time, he'd actually been behind her, filling her deeply and completely as he held fast to her waist. The fourth time he'd been atop her again, kissing her all the while.

Tonight she was tired. Victoria did not suppose she had it in her to sway atop him, nor to be plundered from behind. Perhaps tomorrow, or the day after. They'd be here for three nights, after all. Tonight she was exhausted, and there was no way around it. Melbourne seemed to pick up entirely on her fatigue, and he leaned forward to carefully plant a kiss on her lips.

His right hand snaked down the loose neckline of her nightgown and cupped her breast. His movements were gentle and easy. There was nothing rough or urgent in the way he massaged her pillowy flesh and dragged his thumb over the nipple that started to go hard. Victoria could not help herself; she moaned softly and wrapped her arm around him, pulling him closer.

"I love you," she whispered, and he nodded as he touched his forehead to hers.

"If I could spend every day, every night, every moment with you, I would," he told her. Victoria kissed him then, slowly and deeply, feeling his tongue dance with hers. He was careful with her lip, licking instead of nibbling. He released her breast and hiked up the hem of her nightgown, his fingers urging her thighs apart just enough for him to touch the pads of his fingers to her womanhood. She wasn't quite wet yet, but as his fingers began to glide and push, she felt herself flush damp. Soon enough his fingers were sliding easily, and he carefully dipped two fingers in up to the first knuckle.

Victoria rotated, turning away from him a little to give him a better angle. He kept playing with her, but all she could concentrated on was the way his cock was insistently pressed against the small of her back. He was hard. He wanted her. She reached over her shoulder and pulled his face toward her neck, keeping her fingers tangled in his hair as his lips planted easy kisses all over her sensitive flesh. She turned her head and managed a quick kiss on the mouth before he returned his attention to her neck. Then he kissed between her shoulder blades, and for some reason the sensation made everything go tight inside Victoria. Everything combined then, warming and winding up for a detonation on the horizon. His fingers moved more insistently - pushing, dipping, hooking, twisting - and he kept kissing her neck in a way that drove her mad. Finally he suckled the lobe of her ear between his teeth and whispered,

"Please come for me, Ma'am."

That was it. She wouldn't have been able to stave it off then for all the world. She came hard, so hard that her voice was difficult to muffle. She felt herself clenching around him, and she was still coming down from the blistering satisfaction when she felt her body being tipped and angled by Melbourne's hands.

He pushed into her from behind, his thrusts shallow but quick. It felt good; she could feel his tip as it was embraced and welcomed over and again by her entrance. Melbourne seemed to like it, too; he reached around to grasp rather desperately at Victoria's breast, and his voice was a series of low, breathy grunts near her ear.

"Oh, Victoria," she heard him groan, and suddenly his hand squeezed her breast until it almost hurt. His hips jerked, burying himself and then yanking out again, and finally he went still and quiet. He was holding his breath, she could tell, and she could feel the way his warm seed was spilling deep inside her body.

He stayed there even as he started to go limp. Victoria did not want him to move, so she just reached to take his hand from her breast and laced her fingers through his. She kissed his knuckles and listened to his rickety breath behind her. She shut her eyes and whispered,

"We are dirty from making love, but I do not care. I want to sleep like this."

"All right." Melbourne put a delicate kiss on the shoulder that had been bared by her nightgown slipping. He'd slid from her body, bringing a trail of his seed with him, but they were comfortably nestled together, and he murmured, "We shall sleep just like this, Ma'am."

There was a long and profoundly comfortable quiet then, until Victoria felt compelled to whisper,

"Lord M?"

"Mmm…" He was almost asleep, she could tell, but just the same she asked,

"Do you really love me?"

His response took a moment, and he sighed very deeply before he answered, "Victoria, I love you in a way I did not quite realise a man could love. And I do not suppose I could ever love again, not after you. When I go to my deathbed, which will hopefully be a very great many years from now, I shall go fiercely enamoured by you, my heart bursting at its weak seams with love I did not imagine possible. Yes, Victoria. Yes. I love you."

She was crying then, silent tears streaming down her cheeks and landing on the sheets. She brought his knuckles to her lips and kissed them again, knowing he would be able to feel the damp of her tears as they fell and not caring. She lowered their hands, shut her eyes, and whispered,

"Goodnight, Lord M."

"Goodnight, Ma'am."

* * *

**Author's Note: Awwww. Look at Albert, setting up a way for Melbourne and Victoria to spend the night together. But it seems Alfred and Albert just weren't a good fit! :( Will Albert find happiness with someone else? And how soon will Victoria be able to announce to the public that she and her princely husband have conceived a child? Hmmm…**

**For those on social media - I have decided to remove myself from all fandom-related social media just because I don't have time for it and it wasn't turning out to be a super positive experience for me. Love to all involved, but I'm just going to focus on writing and posting… and, of course, real life! :) Thanks so much for reading, and please do leave a comment if you get a quick moment! Thank you!**


	7. A Good Thing

"Thank you for riding out with me, Albert. Lord M is so busy in the House; it seems like he's there night and day right now."

"Yes. There are many debates about the issue of debt laws," Albert nodded as he guided his bay gelding down the grassy lane outside the palace. It was a pleasantly sunny day, and Victoria frowned a bit at her husband as she noted,

"He has not been able to come to card games for a few weeks now."

"I know. I'm sorry," Albert said. "I have invited him, but he really does seem very busy."

"How are things with Sir James Lacy?" Victoria asked. "I swore I saw him waiting in a drawing room the other night."

She grinned, and Albert's cheeks went ruby red. He sighed, glanced around as if to ensure no one was listening, and he said,

"James is a very beautiful soul," Albert said, his voice almost dreamy. "He likes to discuss new technologies with me. He likes to discuss art."

"He sounds positively perfect," Victoria said. She shut her eyes for a moment, fighting through a surge of nausea. It was just the way her horse was rocking in her steps today, she thought. She was just queasy from the ride.

"I admit I am very fond of Sir James," Albert said quietly. "I look forward to the card games I so like to host. It is a little suspicious, you see, to have him come too often on his own. People do talk about him. They say that he has been far too friendly with known… sodomites… in the past. But I find myself drawn to him. I want to spend more time with him."

"I am so very glad you've found someone who pleases you, Albert," Victoria said honestly. "I have only met Sir James Lacy a very few times, but I might like another audience with him soon. Just to extend my goodwill to him."

Albert's face warmed considerably, and he nodded vigorously. "That would mean the world to me, Victoria. Thank you."

Victoria was dizzy all of a sudden, and her stomach churned as searing acid worked its way up into her mouth. She cleared her throat and asked Albert, "How old is he again? Thirty, yes?"

"Thirty-four," Albert said. "He was married early in his twenties, but unfortunately his wife died of consumption before they had any children."

"That's too bad," Victoria said honestly, her gloved hands shaking around her reins. "I mean to say, it's too bad that she passed away. I hear he has been heroic in his military service, and that his family has been elevated to the Peerage. Will he go into… into politics?"

She stopped her horse then, and Albert yanked his own gelding to a stop. He sounded very alarmed then, and it was as if his voice was coming from underwater.

"Victoria? Victoria, you've gone white as chalk. What is the matter? Are you ill? Can you hear me?"

"Help. Help me off my horse. I'm going to fall. Albert, help me now." Victoria held fast to her grey mare's mane, shaking like a leaf as the nausea completely took her over. Suddenly she could see Albert dashing toward her, coming around the left side of her horse and heaving her down out of her sidesaddle. Victoria immediately collapsed to her knees and gagged, leaning onto her hands and staring at the grass. Then she vomited, as forcefully as she'd ever done in her life. It happened again and again, and she could feel Albert's hand rubbing her back through her riding costume.

"Try not to be afraid," he was saying gently. "This is a good thing, Victoria."

"A good… ugh… a good thing?" She glared up at him, trying to ignore the way her vomit was sinking into the ground and sitting in obscene puddles all over the grass. She crawled away, desperate to get away from it, and Albert helped heave her to her feet. He offered her a handkerchief from his coat, and as she dabbed at her lips, he asked plainly,

"When did you last bleed, my sweet wife?"

She might have been shocked by that question, but this was Albert, her Albert, and she knew he had her best interests at heart. She shook her head and thought hard. Then she shut her eyes and whispered,

"That's what Mrs Jenkins meant."

"What? What did Mrs Jenkins say?" Albert had his hands on Victoria's shoulders to steady her, and Victoria admitted,

"A few weeks ago… oh, probably five weeks ago now… Mrs Jenkins asked if I needed my napkins for the month. I told her no, that I hadn't bled, and she looked at Miss Skerrett, and I… I never learnt about these things properly, you understand. No one ever really taught me, Albert!"

"Oh, Victoria." He wrapped her up into his arms, ignoring the way she probably reeked of vomit, and he kissed cheek as he rubbed her back again. "Oh, my sweet Victoria. You are with child. You are going to be a mother, Victoria."

She pulled back a little, touching at her lower abdomen as her eyes welled heavily.

"I am afraid," she whispered at once. "I am afraid of what happened to our cousin Charlotte. What has happened to so many others."

"No, my dear queen. No." Albert wrapped her up again and held her close for a very long moment. His voice was soft and soothing then as he murmured, "You will have the finest doctors. The very best care. And Lord Melbourne and I will help you, both of us, in any way we can to ensure that you maintain your role as the monarch whilst becoming a mother. We will both help you, Victoria. I am so proud of you. So filled with joy."

"Even though it isn't yours?" She pulled back, staring up into his eyes. Albert's lips curled up a little, and he pushed his heavy, dark hair from his eyes as he reminded her,

"I am your husband, Victoria. Any child you bear… I will be that child's father. But know well that your beloved Lord M will be… well, he will be whatever you want him to be."

"Right now I just want him here," Victoria said rather tearfully. "But he's at the House. He's… I need to tell him."

"Let us walk the horses back," Albert suggested, "and let you rest, and I shall send for him at once."

* * *

 

"Lord Melbourne."

The steward opened the door and announced Melbourne into Victoria's drawing room. He frowned as he watched her pull herself slowly from the divan where she'd been sitting, clad in a nightgown and a light silk dressing gown. Her hair was in a braid over one shoulder. This was a state of undress in which no queen would ordinarily receive her prime minister, and Melbourne nervously glanced over his shoulder to see whether the steward had peered in. The door was shut, and he hurried over to her to kneel and touch his lips to her knuckles.

"Lord M." Her voice sounded a little gravelly, and as he rose, he cupped her pale face in his hand and said honestly,

"I feel terribly that I have been so absent, Your Majesty. These last few weeks have been political hell, and it would not have looked good for me to be spending any demonstrable amount of my free time here at the palace."

"I understand," Victoria nodded. Melbourne tipped his head and studied the dark circles under her eyes.

"His Royal Highness sent a brief letter to Dover House indicating that I must come at once, that there could be no delay. Are you… Ma'am… forgive me, but you look very unwell."

"I was ill earlier in the day," she said quietly, "and a little the day before. And the day before that. I have aches… in my breasts, you understand, aches to which I am not accustomed. I find myself very tired. And I did not understand what all of this meant, because no one ever really saw fit to instruct me about what the signs would be."

She was staring at his shoes all of a sudden, and Melbourne thought he might faint. His breath quickened in his nostrils, and he reached for her hands and gently brushed his thumbs over her knuckles. She was with child. She was with his child. Victoria had in her womb the child of William Lamb, Second Viscount Melbourne. That was enough to make the room spin.

"Are you happy, Ma'am?" He tried to stay steady, but he lost his nerve the moment her eyes found his. She nodded once, but she whispered,

"I am also utterly terrified. Albert promises me that the two of you will take great care for my health and to ensure I can continue my duties."

"Of course we will, Victoria." Melbourne took her face in his hands and touched his forehead to hers. He huffed out a little breath and said quietly, "Perhaps Albert might be willing to host Sir James Lacy and myself for cards tonight. Things are letting up just a little in the House; I can spare a few hours for the prince. I just want to hold you, Victoria. I just want to… to hold you. Will you allow me that?"

"Yes. Please." She put her hands to his chest and then brought her face there, pressing her ear against his shirt as though she were listening to his heart. He brought his arms around her and kissed her cheekbone, and he promised her,

"Albert and I will do everything in our power, Victoria, to ensure that you are safe, that you are happy, that your reign continues unaffected, and that you are able to be the monarch, wife, and mother that you were ordained by God to be."

"Monarch, wife, and mother," she repeated quietly against his chest. "And what am I to you, Lord M?"

His chest pulled a little then, and he whispered, "To me, Ma'am, you are everything. You and our child. The both of you are everything to me. Now, please, do me a favour and sit back down."

**Author's Note: Oh, My. So Victoria's got a child inside of her (Vicky?!) and it's Lord M's. Will the whispers about Sir James Lacy affect Albert at all now that an announcement of the Queen's pregnancy will be made? What about the fact that Lord Melbourne has always been conspicuously close to Her Majesty? We can't go too long without a good solid scandal, can we? ;) Thanks as always for reading and reviewing.**


	8. Cottonopolis

"Drina, you seem as though you are feeling much better." The Duchess of Kent sipped at her Champagne, and Victoria smiled a little as she watched the party unfold before her. Albert had insisted upon a cheerful get-together to celebrate the public announcement of Victoria's pregnancy. She was fourteen weeks into it now, and though she wasn't showing in her belly, her face looked a little fuller in the mirror.

"The nausea and sickness have mostly abated, thanks be to God," Victoria said. "I find myself weary, which is an annoyance when I must rise to do the boxes. All in all, I feel well."

"Such a blessing." The duchess reached to gently touch her daughter's arm, but then her smile vanished and she murmured, "I am a little concerned about your husband, Drina."

Victoria scowled. "About His Royal Highness Prince Albert, you mean, Mama."

The duchess nearly rolled her eyes at her daughter. She huffed a sigh and said, "There have been… reports. It is said that Sir James Lacy has been seen leaving the prince's apartments on several occasions. In the mornings, Drina. Did you know of this?"

"Reports," Victoria scoffed, sipping from her own glass. "Who is giving these reports? Servants that you have spying for you?"

From across the room, Lord Melbourne glanced away from a conversation with the Duke of Wellington, looking a little concerned. Victoria turned her eyes to Albert and frowned when she saw that he was deep in conversation with Sir James.

"The boys play cards. They drink. Sometimes, I think, Sir James gets tired and is invited to stay in Lehzen's old bedroom." Victoria gave her mother a very serious look, but the duchess barrelled on,

"Your dear Albert should be careful. Sir James Lacy is little more than a commoner, made a baron only for his military service, and -"

"As if there is any shame in earning a title through heroics," Victoria snapped, and the duchess pinched her lips.

"They say that during his military days, he engaged in sodomy with his fellow soldiers."

"It seems, Mama, that many people say many things to you," Victoria said sharply. "Sir James Lacy is a wonderful friend to my husband. And you should know that Albert and I have a beautiful marriage in every way. Do you doubt that?"

She touched her hand to her lower abdomen, and the duchess was silent for a long moment. Suddenly Victoria understood. Her own mother thought the child Victoria was carrying was Melbourne's. She thought Albert and Sir James were more than just friends. She wasn't wrong, of course, and the Duchess of Kent had always been an expert at gossip. But Victoria put her own glass on a passing tray and said in a voice that left no room for further discussion,

"You are to be the grandmother of the Queen's child, Mama - the child of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. I expect of you that you will be appropriate joyful, that you will henceforth cease all malicious talk and spreading of silly rumours, and that you will play your part well. If you can not do it, I shall have you sent to Kensington and kept far away from us. Do you understand me?"

The duchess' mouth dropped open, and her gloved hand tightened around her glass. "Drina…"

"The correct response is, 'Yes, Your Majesty. I understand.'" Victoria knew her gaze was fire then, and the duchess' eyes welled. She nodded, her ringlets shaking wildly, and she whispered,

"I understand."

"Good. I am going to dance with Sir James. I want him to regale me with tales of his military heroics," Victoria said. She stomped away from her mother then, crossing the ballroom and nodding to acknowledge the bows and curtsies she received along the way. She knew very well that her mother wasn't the only one talking. If the queen's own mother thought such things about Albert, about Melbourne, then others did, too. But even if they could prove anything, it wouldn't matter. Victoria and Albert were married, and the queen was with child. That child - from every legal perspective whatsoever - was Albert's. They could talk all they wanted; there could be no real, destructive consequence.

"Albert! Sir James." Victoria interrupted what seemed like a very vigorous conversation about steam engines. Both men turned at once at the sound of her voice. Albert bowed his head, and Sir James gave a more submissive obeisance. Victoria took her dance card from around her wrist and glanced at it, and she mumbled softly, "Would you believe it? This one is free."

Sir James smiled warmly and handed his wine to Albert. He extended his hand and said kindly,

"Your Majesty, I wonder if you might do me the profound honour of a dance."

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Sir James." Victoria flashed a happy little smile to Albert, who sipped from Sir James' glass. Victoria let Sir James lead her to the dance floor, where a slow and easy waltz had begun. He was good at dancing, she noticed at once. His touch was light upon her, but his feet moved easily. She glanced over to Melbourne, who smiled just a little as he turned back to the Duke of Wellington.

"Sir James," Victoria said quietly, "You are from Manchester, are you not?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Sir James nodded. "My family home is just outside the city."

"Albert is so fascinated by industrial happenings," Victoria mused. "There is an expansive and impressive cotton industry in Manchester, no? Lord M tells me that the city is often called 'Cottonopolis.'"

Sir James chuckled. "Yes, Ma'am. Industry has boomed madly in Manchester. It is a strange and wondrous place."

"I wonder if Albert might not like to go there sometime soon," Victoria said thoughtfully. "It wouldn't do for me to go, not with the smoke from the factories while I'm with child. But perhaps you might host him at your family home. Albert, I mean. He could make some official visits to factories. He could observe, be given tours. He would like that very much, I think."

Sir James' face went serious, and he glanced over Victoria's shoulder, his eyes settling on a figure. Albert, she knew. Sir James frowned and said,

"People would talk worse than ever, Ma'am."

"Well, let them talk. If anyone disparages the way Prince Albert visits factories in my realm, they may take the matter up with me directly. Your home is conveniently located to host his visit to Manchester. The two of you could go soon and stay for a few weeks. Would this suit you?"

Suddenly Sir James looked very emotional, and he shut his eyes for a brief moment as he and Victoria moved. He nodded once and whispered,

"He speaks so highly of you, Ma'am. He says you are so full of life, so full of vigour and will, that you are a beautiful soul. That is what he says. And I am inclined to agree. I also think you are most merciful, most compassionate, and for your… accommodation… I find myself unwilling to properly express my gratitude."

"There is nothing for which to be grateful, Sir James," Victoria said as the dance ended. "I am asking you to host my husband on an official visit to one of my country's most impressive industrial centres. Will you take on the task for me?"

Sir James took a step away and bowed respectfully. "It would be my pleasure, Ma'am."

"Sir James Lacy," Victoria said, her voice gentler than ever then. She waited until the blond man's pale eyes found hers, and she said, "Thank you for bringing him such joy."

* * *

"Oh, Lord M." Victoria made to rise from the divan upon which she was sitting, but Melbourne gestured for her to stay down. He walked over to her and bowed before sitting beside her.

"Albert said you'd left the party because you were unwell," he said. "He sent me to check on you; he did not want to alarm anyone by leaving. So, here I am… checking on you."

Victoria smirked a little and stared at the empty fireplace. It was too warm outside for a fire, of course, so now she just studied the soot-stained bricks.  
"I'm just tired," she told him, and Melbourne nodded.

"It is normal, I think, to be fatigued. Especially early in the process. Is there anything I might get for you?"

"I wanted to dance with you." Victoria looked very sad then, very sad and very beautiful. She'd put flowers in her hair again, and he knew she'd done that for him. She was stunning in her pale blue silk gown with the white stephanotis adorning her braided hair. He stroked his knuckles down her arm and whispered,

"We shall have many opportunities to dance, Victoria."

"I wanted to dance with you tonight." She was whining a little now, as she was wont to do, and suddenly Melbourne was reminded of just how very young she was. He'd lived a whole life already - he'd been married, he'd had and lost children, he'd been made a cuckold and had carved out an entire political career. But Victoria's life was just beginning. She was only just barely a woman. And she had his child inside of her. He gulped hard and took her hand in his.

"If you were feeling queasy, Ma'am, or tired, it wouldn't do to dance."

"I want to go back now," she said rather firmly. "I just needed to sit, to get off of my feet for a few moments. But I want to go back. I want to dance with you."

Melbourne curled his lips up a little and shrugged. "If you're very certain you're well enough, Ma'am, I would be honoured to share a dance with my immaculate queen."

"Take me back in there, will you?" Her pale blue eyes, nearly the same shade as her gown, searched his desperately. Melbourne furrowed his brow and shook his head a little as he mumbled,

"Victoria, I can't walk into that ballroom with you. You are the sovereign, and I am just your prime minister."

"You are the father of the child that grows within me," Victoria said, almost defensively, and Melbourne put his lips into a firm line.  
"Prince Albert is the father of your child, Your Majesty."

She looked very hurt then, and she pulled her hand from his. "You call me that now to mock me."

"I say it to remind us both of reality, Ma'am," Melbourne said, but Victoria flew to her feet and began to pace in front of the divan. Melbourne rose slowly, forced to stand by the way she'd done so.

"I am sending Albert to Manchester with Sir James Lacy," Victoria said in a low, frantic voice. "He will be visiting factories. Making royal visits to industrial sites to praise the development of the city."

Melbourne swallowed hard and nodded. "That seems prudent on many fronts, Ma'am. A wise decision."

"I would like to go to Brocket Hall again," she said simply, and Melbourne shut his eyes as a spike of dread came over him. He shook his head and whispered,

"No."

"No?" Victoria almost spat the word, and when he opened his eyes to look at her again, she was so achingly lovely that his stomach hurt. He sighed and told her,

"Your Majesty, you can not send the prince off to Manchester with his paramour and then go to Brocket Hall on a private getaway with the prime minister that very nearly everyone suspects to be your lover."

"I shall do as I please! I am the queen!" Victoria actually stamped her foot then, looking more like a child than ever. "I want to wake in the mornings with you, Lord M, and so I would like a visit to Brocket Hall to be arranged at once."

"That is impossible, I'm afraid," Melbourne said. "Besides the ridiculous irresponsibility of it, I can not leave London now. I have far too much work in the House to -"

"You are being cruel," Victoria growled, and Melbourne threw his hands up helplessly.

"Cruel! I am being practical. I am trying - desperately, desperately trying - to be practical in a situation that is a farce unto itself. Your husband likes men; he has one of his own. I am in love with you, and you with me, but I am your prime minister. I put a child on you, but of course it must be Albert's. And it is all well and good, Victoria, for you to send Albert and Sir James Lacy on a trip to Manchester. The optics from Albert's visits will be good, and you are benevolently granting them time together. But there will be no trip to Brocket Hall. None. It can not happen."

She glared at him then for a very long moment. He did not take his eyes from hers, even though it was entirely uncouth to stare at the monarch like this. Instead he closed the gap between them and took her face in his hands, keeping his touch careful and gentle, and he whispered,

"You look so very pretty with flowers in your hair."

"We could go into my bedroom right now and make love," Victoria replied. Melbourne smiled just a little at that, and he shook his head as he said,

"No, because you must go back to the party, Ma'am. But other nights? Yes. Other nights I shall kiss you in this drawing room, and we shall sneak into your bedroom. We shall go for walks during the day, and we shall dine together. And when Albert is not in Manchester, he will host me in his chambers and I shall spent hours with you curled against me. I love you. I will continue to love you. But I can not take you to Brocket Hall. For that, Victoria, I am very sorry indeed."

He kissed her then, his lips delicate against hers, and when he pulled back, he whispered,

"What I can do is go into that ballroom, and you can come five minutes later, and I can ask you if you will grant me a waltz. And then you can say yes, and I can stare at your lovely eyes and the flowers in your hair. And as I dance with you, Victoria, I can imagine the way you will look cradling our child in your arms. All of that I can do, if you will only allow it."

He stared into her eyes then, and she nodded silently. She covered his hands with her own gloved ones, and she said,

"Go on back in, then. Tell Albert I was merely fatigued and needed a few moments. I shall be in shortly, and I expect to be asked to dance."

Melbourne turned up half his mouth, took a step back, and bowed his head respectfully as he began to back away. "Your Majesty."

**Author's Note: Oh, Victoria. She means well, but she's still so immature. Is she right in thinking that there's no real harm that can come from the rumours? Thanks as always for reading, and please do leave a quick comment if you can.**


	9. Attention Readers

This story is currently on indefinite hiatus.

 

I have just finished my novel-length fanfic for Man in the High Castle. My next original book to be published in a nonfiction examination of apostasy among former Christians in the U.S., which involves a lot of data amalgamation and ghostwriting personal anecdotal stories. Then there's the fact that I will NOT be able to stop myself from writing a fanfic for Star Wars: Ep VIII when it comes out next month. I also have two unfinished Bellamort stories whose endings are burning a hole in my gray matter in a way this Victoria tale simply is not. I promise to finish Matters of Convenience as soon as I can, but right now my real life and my writing life are not leading me down that path. I will finish it whenever my brain and my life allow!

 

Thank you for your readership, patience, compassion, and interest.


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